I'm Yours
by LovingEmerald
Summary: Damon & Elena knew their relationship was never going to be easy, but when trust fails & Damon hangs on the edge, can LOVE save them from self-destructing?  "Are you still mine?" he asks her. "I shouldn't be, not after everything you've done." But she was


_Disclaimer: I do not own TVD or any of the characters associated with it. Only this plot and these words are mine (and may not be reproduced without my consent)._

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><p>"You're not my Damon anymore," she said, her eyes welling up with tears.<p>

_How could this be? _she wanted to ask. She had always been so sure about him. About them.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You were never _my _Elena," he said bitterly, looking away.

Her eyes widened at this, and she looked at him with disbelief because... how could he not know? After all this time... how could he NOT know? She bit down on the urge to stomp her foot and slap him at the same time.

"You know that's not true," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Isn't it?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. Like a predator who had just smelled fear, he began to advance on her, his eyes never leaving hers. When he was close enough, he bent down and purred in her ear: _"It's always going to be, Stefan." _His voice pitched high as he mimicked her, throwing her naive teenage words in her face.

But she wasn't that girl anymore. And she had _never _been "Stefan's". At times like these, she wondered why she let herself be _his._

This time, she couldn't stop herself. Her hand flew up and slapped him, her hot skin colliding with his cold, smooth jaw and she stepped back, putting distance between them.

"I was always _your _Elena," she gritted out between clenched teeth. Angry tears burned her eyes as she stared into his defiant blue orbs. They seem to hypnotize her and mock her, simulteneously reminding her of the man and monster he was. She couldn't look away. "Why couldn't you ever believe that?" she added in a more broken voice. Deep down, she wanted nothing more desperately to than to _fix _this. Fix _them_.

_(it wasn't so much about the killings as it was about the fact that he acted like he didn't love her anymore.)_

He looked at her impassively for a few moments, as if analyzing her, and she wondered if he was really gone after all. Maybe Damon she knew was never coming back. Maybe their story had finally reached the tragic ending that everyone had warned her about.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare, and after a few moments, she grew fed up. Letting out a frustrated growl, she turned away to start walking.

"Ugh, just forget I said anyth- Ahh!" she screamed as she found herself being yanked back, her feet tripping over themselves as Damon pulled her back into him. Her face collided with his hard chest, and she had to bring a hand up to steady herself, the world spinning around her. Blowing hair out of her face, she exhaled loudly, counting to ten to calm herself down.

Then: "What is wrong with you?" she yelled, and pushed on his chest; found it had no effect because he now had his arms around her, holding her to him. This angered her even more. "Damon, let me go!" she punched his arms, but he only smirked, as if amused by her. When she stopped, and glowered at him, he simply tipped his head to the side as if to say: _are you done?_

She huffed. "What do you want?" If she could fold her arms, she would have.

He considered her question for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in her angry pout, her defiant nose stuck up in the air, her eyes challenging him to talk to her. Like, actually _talk_. He spoke: "Are you still?" he asked her, his voice betraying no emotion.

It was a simple question. It could mean so many things. It could mean nothing at all. She wanted it to- no, surely... could she hope? Would she be deluding herself? She didn't dare hope that it meant what she thought it did.

"Am I still what?" she replied, deciding to play this game.

"Mine." He clarified, not the least bit put off. He'd expected his. He _knew _her.

She gulped and looked away. She should lie. It would be so easy. It might cut off any last thread he had to his humanity, he might go crazy. He might kill her.

_(He would never kill her.)_

But then, she would be free. _Free. _Of him, of her life, of this absolutely batshit-crazy supernatural mess they were all in.

She slid her eyes back to him. He was watching her patiently, his perceptive eyes boring into hers, seeing her. _Through _her.

She had never learned to lie to him.

"I shouldn't be," she whispered. "Not after everything you've done."

Not a real answer, but maybe he would let sleeping dragons lie.

"But are you?"

No chance.

She didn't answer, instead looked at him, trying to read him as he had her. Was he still in there? Did the man who owned her heart lie somewhere beneath that still, unaffected surface? She looked for a sign - a turn of his lips, a flicker of emotion, anything.

Nothing.

When she remined quiet, his fingers squeezed her waist, pulling her closer to him. She could feel the toned contours of his body against hers. The hard muscles of his chest, the protective bulk of his arms - not too big, just big enough to make her feel safe, even now. His messy black hair fell into a pattern on his forehead, begging to be fixed, but she resisted the urge, keeping her hands firmly at her side. The warm summer breeze blew around them, and she shivered, willing her body not to react to his closeness.

If only she could stop feeling.

_Hah! That would be the day._

His fingers continued to dig into her skin, demanding answers. But she couldn't. She couldn't tell him lies, and she didn't dare tell him the truth.

So she simply looked up at him, helpless and vulnerable, sure that he _must _see. After all, how could he not?

He knew. That's why he'd asked in the first place.

Damon didn't take risks when it came to his heart.

_But that assumes that __**this **__is even about his heart. Maybe his heart's not in this at all._

The thought struck her suddenly, and she almost gasped. She had always assumed that every part of Damon - both good and bad - loved her. Always.

Isn't that what he had said?

He heard the soft gasp escape her lips and loosened his grip on her, misunderstanding. Slowly, his fingers began to trace soothing circles on her skin, and she felt herself grow warm in response. The familiarity of the gesture soothed her, so much so that a content sigh threatened to escape her lips.

_Damn him!_ she thought. _Why does this have to be so hard?_

He bent his head down then, no longer willing to wait for a response. She saw it coming, saw his perfect red lips descend towards hers, his breath on her cheek as he swooped in and waited for her back down, hesistate. She never did. And then, his mouth was on hers. There was no air left between them. There was only Damon and she kissed him back just as hungrily as his lips devoured hers, pressing her body into his as she inhaled him. _He was her air. _

She was finally breathing.

Then -

- he was pulling back, peeling his lips away from hers, seperating them with a pop. His forehead rested against hers. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, her ragged breath pumping out of her lungs. Her chest felt like it was going to burst, and she dared not speak or even _think_. Everything was inconcievable at this moment. Everything that was not Damon. Kissing Damon.

For his part, Damon seemed more composed, seemingly unaffected by their first kiss in nearly two months. Only the sparkle in eyes would give him away. But you had to _look_.

He straightened up, letting go of her, lightly resting his hands on her waist. She didn't move. Bringing a hand up, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Cupping her cheek, he said to her: "You're mine."

There was no question this time. It was a statement.

Shakily, she nodded.

No use lying now.

**_Yours. I'm yours._**

She wondered if he could read her mind. She wouldn't be surprised if he could.

Looking up, she saw a sparkle in his eyes, the warm humour peeking out from behind the wings, and her heart soared.

"Damon," she whispered.

Snapping his eyes into focus, he looked at her. "Yes?"

"Can-" she stuttered. She hadn't really planned on saying it out loud. "Can you take me home?" she asked at last.

Nodding, he took her hand, and lead her to his car. Opening the passanger the door, he ushered her in.

"My car..." she said, pointing towards the Ford parked a farther down the road.

"Will be parked in your driveway in the morning," he informed her.

She nodded and sat down, the door closing behind her. Seconds later, he was in the driver's seat, firing the car into ignition.

_Another car ride __**home **__**together**._

She could never be free of him. He was a part of her.

She smiled faintly as she watched him drive, his face impassive, eyes staring intently ahead. There was something different about him, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what.

Maybe it was just the fact that she knew he was still _there_. That no matter what kind of a monster Damon turned into, he would always _love her_. And that was enough for Elena.

For now.

"E-_le-_na," he called out her name, pulling her out of her daydreams.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"Stop staring," he smirked.

She shook her head, marvelled at his ability to joke at times of such utter chaos. Trust Damon to be the one smirking even as their lives fell apart.

"Just take me home," she replied, turning to look out the window as she hid a small smile.

_It was nice to know,_ he thought beside her. _That no matter how much he fucked up, she would still love him._

**_(because he was _hers_, after all.)_**

_._

_._

_._

10 minutes later, they were on Elena's porch. He stood with his hands stuff in his leather jacket pockets as she fiddled with her keys. When the door was open, she turned back to him.

"Thanks," she said with a slight grimace that might have been meant to be a smile. "For dropping me off."

He shrugged his shoulders, saying nothing.

For a moment, she looked uncertain. Then, she asked: "What are you doing tonight?"

He laughed shortly at that. "Am I killing anyone, you mean?" He asked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

She frowned. "Well... yes. Are you?"

"Do you want me to?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course, I don't want you to! You know that!"

He shrugged. "Maybe, I won't."

"Maybe?" she asked, dissatisfied. She wanted something a bit more concrete than _that._

He nodded. "Maybe."

She narrowed her eyes, considering his words. Then she sighed, making up her mind. Stepping aside, she opened the door wider, and gestured him inside. "Come in," she said, jerking her head. "I'm making tea."

He laughed deeper at that, stepping past her into the house. "How long are you planning on babysitting me like this?"

She rolled her eyes, and closed the door behind her. "As long as it takes."

"Besides," she continued. "I have a few things I need you to take care of around here. You wouldn't mind terribly, would you?" She smiled at him with fake sugary sweetness, but the mischievousness in her eyes was genuine.

He grinned wickedly. "Ask and you shall receive, Elena. Haven't I already taught you that?" Taking off his jacket, he threw it on a nearby sofa.

She smirked back. "Oh, you _certainly_ have."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, strolling into the kitchen. "You still got some O-negative?" he called out to her, presumably as he searched the fridge.

"Bottom drawer on the left," she replied, picking up his jacket and hanging it on a hook.

As she heard him fuss about in the kitchen, pulling out glasses and tea bags, she mused that maybe this _could_ work.

Maybe they could play house for a while.

And maybe, just _maybe,_ it would be enough to bring him back.

Old Damon, Bad Damon, New Damon, Good Damon... it was all just one man.

And if she could still love him now, even after he had fed on her fellow townies and not even bothered to apologize...

Well, maybe there was hope for them after all.

After all, he _was _in her kitchen, making her tea when he could've been out there feeding on unsuspecting girls.

Baby steps. He was making an effort. And that was enough for her.

For _now_.

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><p><strong><span>Author's Note:<span> Okay... so, this is just something that popped up into my head last night as I was listening to "bloodstream" by stateless. Completely random. I just wanted to make a fic where Damon and Elena said that they belonged to each other. I'm not quite sure about the ending... I just wanted to leave it open to the possibility that by seeing how much Elena loves him, despite everything he's become - it makes Damon WANT to be the better person. Not because she's asking him to, but because she will love him anyway, even if it hurts her (and he doesn't want to hurt her).**

**Anyway, this is not my best work, so please be kind - READ AND REVIEW AND I SHALL LOVE YOU FOREVER! :3 :D**

**xoxo**

**LE~**


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